


Santa Claus is Coming

by Drarrelie



Series: Santa Claus is Coming (to Town) [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Harry Potter, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Puns, Christmas Smut, Don't copy to another site, Fanart Welcome, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry Potter is a Good Boy, Healer Harry Potter, Hot Chocolate, M/M, POV Harry Potter, Pining, Podfic Welcome, Potioneer Draco Malfoy, Praise Kink, Puns & Word Play, Rimming, Secret Crush, Smut, Top Draco Malfoy, Visiting Santa Claus, Wishes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:28:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28158321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drarrelie/pseuds/Drarrelie
Summary: Harry is mortified to learn what Teddy asked Santa Claus to bring him for Christmas. Only question is, will Santa be able to deliver?The E-rated version ofSanta Claus is Coming to Town.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Santa Claus is Coming (to Town) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2062881
Comments: 28
Kudos: 420





	1. TRACK 1 — Dear Santa

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adavison](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adavison/gifts), [TheLightFury](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLightFury/gifts).



> This is the companion piece to Santa Claus is Coming to Town, the same story told from Harry’s POV. If you haven’t read the original version already, I highly recommend you do that first since this instalment will most likely ruin the fluffy innocence and adorable obliviousness of five-year-old Teddy’s POV in the original version. It's only 7K; you can do it, I dare you.
> 
> This fic is dedicated to [adavison](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adavison) — who's been my steady rock throughout the year, beta reading [every single one of my weekly drabbles](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612318) with much enthusiasm and encouragement no matter how late I've been completing them at times — and [TheLightFury](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLightFury) — without whom I never would've been able to create [my Wireless fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24714787) earlier in the year. I'm eternally grateful to both of you for what you've done to help me evolve as a writer this year. Thank you for being you 💙💙
> 
> Also, thank you [ladderofyears](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladderofyears) and [janie-ohio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie-ohio) for the beating and Brit-picking. I have only myself to blame for any remaining mistakes.
> 
> English is not my native language so please be kind if you find any errors I've missed. That said, I’ll appreciate any feedback you’re willing to give me — kudos, comments and recommendations are my primary life sources.
> 
> Disclaimer: All characters belong to — and are reverently borrowed from — JKR and associated publishers.

“Are you sure you won’t need any more Pepper-Up?” Draco frowned, perusing Harry’s potions cabinet. “I brought you three bottles, but…”

“No, I— I mean, yeah. I…”

Harry willed his eyes to leave Draco’s pert arse alone, but it was a losing battle. Gorgeous blokes shouldn’t be allowed to bend over like that. Especially not this one. And especially not in Harry’s office, for Circe’s sake. Even with the lab coat covering Draco’s snug trousers, Harry had no trouble imagining that delectable arse all too easily. And that was the real trouble, wasn’t it? Because imagining Draco’s naked arse was the last thing he ought to do. Not here. Not now. Not ever.

Harry couldn’t help it, though. Ever since that one time last summer, when he had — _accidentally_ — caught a glimpse of Draco’s naked figure in the locker room showers, it was all he could think about whenever the man was in the same room. That perfect porcelain skin stretched taut over powerful muscle and glistening from the water running down his spine towards—

Even now, seven months later, the image was as vivid in Harry’s mind as if it had happened yesterday. Which was really inconvenient. And highly unprofessional. Not to mention, what the knowledge would do to their hard-earned friendship if Draco were ever to find out about his—

“Come again?”

Harry blinked at Draco’s words, promptly ignoring the amusement in his voice, as well as the heat creeping up his own cheeks.

“I mean…” Harry croaked, stopping to clear his throat before continuing. “Yes, I’m sure I’ll manage until you get back.”

And he would. Harry’s potions cabinet hadn’t been this well-stocked in the entire history of the universe. Draco had seen to that, bringing him new batches of balms and tinctures, infusions and salves, elixirs and draughts every day for nearly a week now. It was Draco's job, after all, supplying the Healing staff with his brews, but Harry was starting to wonder if the man was on his way to a nervous breakdown or something. “Don’t worry, Draco. I’m good.”

“You are?” The smirk forming on Draco’s lips was subtle but undeniable.

Harry rolled his eyes, refusing to acknowledge the thrill running up his spine. “Yes, I’m _good_. And it’s not like you’ll be gone forever.”

“No, I… I’ll be back after New Years, I promise. Mark my words, two weeks together with Mother is more than enough.”

 _Two weeks_.

It felt like an eternity, but maybe two weeks without Draco was exactly what Harry needed to return to some state of sanity. So why didn’t it feel like a reprieve? Why did it feel like a punishment?

“So, um…” Harry busied himself with the files on his desk, unwilling to let Draco see the longing that must be radiating from his features. “Will I see you again? I mean, before…” _you leave. …me_. … _alone._

“You’ll see me tomorrow, right? In Diagon? Or are you planning on giving Teddy a broken heart for Christmas?”

“That’s not what I…” Harry stopped himself from finishing the sentence. Whiny and petulant was not how he wished for Draco to remember him while away in France over the holidays. “Of course not. According to ‘Dromeda, he’s not been able to talk about anything else the entire week.”

“Good.” Draco nodded, pushing his hands deep down into his trouser pockets. Harry was sorely tempted to call him out on his uncharacteristic behaviour but got distracted. The dark-grey fabric stretched intriguingly over Draco’s hips and his— “Well then…”

 _Fuck_.

Harry tore his eyes from Draco’s fly so fast it made him dizzy. Or, maybe it was the sight that met him when he did; those silvery eyes twinkling at him like the finest tinsel in town.

Draco looked like he was about to leave, and Harry scrambled for something to say, anything that might make him remain in the office just a few moments longer. What had they been talking about again? Ah, yes…

“So, Mr Claus, are you ready to face the crowd?”

“I was born ready.” Draco grinned, causing Harry’s heart to skip a beat. Seriously. If Draco kept throwing him that smile without warning, Harry wouldn’t be surprised if it would, one day, stop his heart altogether. “You haven’t seen me in the costume yet, but once you do, I’m sure you’ll agree.”

Harry had almost sprayed a mouthful of his morning Darjeeling all over Draco’s chest the day he’d told him about his seasonal volunteer work.

Who would’ve thought the once ever-so-proud, haughty Malfoy heir would ever deign to dress up in a Santa suit and spend hour upon hour interacting with children of all ages? Not Harry, for sure. Just the notion of it — combined with the fact that Draco did it willingly, and for the benefit of the National Foundation for Orphaned Children, no less — would probably have been enough for Harry to fall head over heels for the man if he weren’t crushing so hard on him already.

“I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.” Harry was going for cheerful, but it ended up rather strained and a little breathless. Hopefully, the jovial smile he plastered across his face would be enough to divert Draco’s attention.

“Tomorrow.”

Draco winked and sauntered out the door, disappearing down the corridor towards his lab.

Harry’s smile faltered with every retreating footfall. They wouldn’t have any chance to talk tomorrow, not as long as Draco was on the clock. And then he’d be gone, whisked away by international Portkey to celebrate the holidays with his mother and Andromeda in France.

Thank Merlin Teddy had insisted on staying with him in London, or Harry would probably have spent Christmas evening sobbing pathetically into a pillow all by his lonesome.


	2. TRACK 2 — All I Want for Christmas Is You

With only a few days to go before Christmas, Diagon Alley was just as crammed as Harry had feared it might be. He rarely ventured into the heart of Wizarding London anymore, and when he eventually did, he always planned to avoid the peak hours to evade the crowds as much as possible. Not that he didn’t like people, per se, it was just… Too many at once had a tendency to hinder him from living his life with any semblance of normalcy. And if there was anything he craved after the war, it was normalcy.

This day was not about him, though. It was about Teddy. And there was nothing Harry wouldn’t do for his godson, even if it involved bumping into every witch and wizard in the country.

And the boy’s current eagerness did help a lot with his anxiety. Harry couldn’t help but smile as he was dragged through the throng of people, guided towards the Main Square by a five-year-old with enough excitement in his tiny body to rival an entire Quidditch stadium during playoffs.

“Pardon,” muttered a middle-aged woman who rammed him with her shoulder, too busy perusing the shopfronts to look where she was going.

“Sorry,” mumbled a teenager who stepped on his foot, likely more by reflex than genuine apology.

“Excuse me,” a scowling man demanded, nearly knocking Teddy to the ground in his haste. “Excu— Oh, Mr Potter, sir. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” The scowl morphed into a fawning smile so quickly Harry wanted to scream. Not that he didn’t think a sincere apology had been warranted, it most definitely had, rather because Harry was once again reminded that, most likely, the only reason he even received one was his unwanted celebrity status. “Have a good day, Mr Potter, and Happy Holi—”

“Look, Uncle Harry!” Teddy’s excited voice tore through Harry’s thoughts, his beaming smile evaporating every trace of irritation in a single heartbeat. “There’s the tree!”

Harry grinned at the boy. “Yeah. Well-spotted, Teddy.”

“Well, come on then.” Teddy tugged on Harry’s hand, already on the move again. “We have to hurry, or we’ll miss him!”

“Hey, take it easy.” Harry chuckled, apologising to an observant old lady who’d been kind enough to step aside to let Teddy cross her path. “We’re almost there, cutie cub. I’m sure Santa will have time for everyone.”

Teddy didn’t seem to listen, though, and Harry did his best to keep up with him, almost tripping over his own feet as he sidestepped a little girl who was clutching her mother’s hand tightly.

“Woah, what—?”

Teddy had come to a sudden halt, and Harry was _this_ close to crashing straight into him. Frowning, he followed the boy’s gaze to the other end of the square. There, on a two-foot-high podium next to the gigantic Christmas tree, all dressed up in white-trimmed red, with shiny black boots and a long curly beard. Draco.

 _Fuck_.

He really _did_ look the part. Every last inch of him. Not that Harry had met too many Santas throughout his life — the Dursleys had seen to that — but Draco was the spitting image of how he’d always pictured jolly old St Nick. A cute blonde toddler was sitting on his lap, giggling at something he’d just said, and Harry had to remind himself how to breathe.

Teddy’s hand slipped from his grip, and Harry blinked back to reality just in time to watch him run off towards the scene.

“Teddy?”

Adrenaline flooded Harry’s veins like a tsunami, dread rooting him to the spot for what felt like ages before he finally got the gears of his brain working again.

“Teddy!”

The panic in his voice caused several people to turn to look at him, but Harry only had eyes for the five-year-old boy in the red-and-green-knitted hat and scarf currently running away from him. This was one of the reasons he avoided the crowds whenever possible; the not-so-exaggerated fear that something would happen to any of his loved ones on his watch. It was enough to have to experience it in his nightmares.

With his heart racing in his chest, Harry rushed after him, not slowing down until he was back at Teddy’s side.

“Edward Remus Lupin!” Wide blue eyes looked up at him, chin trembling. “We do _not_ just run away without permission.”

Teddy shook his head, repentant. “N-no, Uncle Harry, I— I’m sorry, but…”

“No buts, Teddy.” The boy flinched at his clipped tone, and Harry realised with trepidation that he, in his distress, had brought his godson to the verge of tears. He swallowed and forced the agitation from his face, careful to replace it with something more akin to concern. “Listen,” he said softly as he squatted in front of the boy. “I know you’re excited to meet Santa, darling, but this is serious. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Teddy’s murmur was all but inaudible in the lively square, and his eyes didn’t quite manage to meet Harry’s as Teddy bit his bottom lip and fiddled with his scarf. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, cutie cub,” Harry assured him, “just as long as you try not to do it again.”

Teddy nodded, and Harry resisted the urge to take the boy in his arms, unsure if he would ever be able to let go again if he did.

“Good.” As Harry relaxed, he noticed the unmistakable prickle at the nape of his neck telling him he was being watched. Glancing towards its source, he was unsurprised to find Draco’s warm, grey eyes studying him over thin-rimmed half-moon glasses. Draco raised a bushy white eyebrow in question and Harry gave him a reassuring smile, ignoring the pixies in his stomach as he turned back to Teddy. “Now, do you remember what you had planned to ask Santa for?”

“Yeah.” Teddy’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, his gaze inevitably drawn to the bearded man on the podium. “Yeah, I do.”

“Good.” Harry stood and stretched his legs, scanning the crowd for any familiar faces. Not until Teddy’s impatient bouncing-on-the-spot reverberated up his arm did he realise he’d placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, apparently unwilling to let him out of reach again.

Thinking rationally, Harry knew chances were minimal that anyone would try something in the middle of the holiday rush, but that didn’t mean his protective instincts ever took a break. Although it felt like a lifetime ago, the war wounds were still fresh and deep enough for some resentful people to take justice into their own hands, driven by a perceived obligation to right the wrongs they believed had been wrought in the aftermath of the war. There were still wizards and witches out there who believed in Voldemort’s agenda; anonymous, faceless people who hadn’t been active in the war and therefore had never been identified or apprehended. Who knew when any one of them would suddenly think it a good idea to attack the man who had vanquished their admired martyr?

And just because someone belonged to the winning side didn’t mean they were a saint either. Many zealous supporters of the Light had made it their mission to rid the world of anyone who had ever followed Voldemort, regardless of the Wizengamot’s — far too lenient, according to some — rulings, and Harry was reluctantly grateful for Draco’s festive disguise which made him unrecognisable to anyone who wasn’t already aware of his identity.

But Harry was aware. 

In fact, it was all he could think about while he stood there in the queue surrounded by excited kids and stressed-out parents. From his rounded belly and white-blond curly hair to the reading glasses perched on the rosy tip of his pointy nose — Draco truly made the perfect Santa. He’d even managed the intricate clusters of crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes, making him look like a man with a million happy memories and not a worry in the world. The sight made Harry’s heart melt.

Not that he was in any way turned on by seeing Draco as a wrinkled oldie — truly, he wasn’t — it was just… Harry just loved the idea of an old Draco looking so happy and content with his life. He hoped the man would one day, many years from now, look like that for real. Most of all, Harry wished he’d be the one to be there by Draco’s side making it happen.

Godric, this crush was getting more pathetic by the minute.

Harry tried to engage in conversation with the other adults around him, but his mind was elsewhere. Mrs Finch-Fletchley, who was just in front of them — Harry couldn’t for the life of him remember her first name — told him all there was to know about her family’s holiday plans, her husband’s promotion, and something about a mischievous crup that had…? Harry had no clue. All he could do was nod along and try to hum in the right places. However, no matter how much Harry tried not to, his gaze kept drifting back to Draco over and over again. And the worst part; he was pretty sure Draco had noticed.

The queue moved slowly, creeping along the front of the podium, taking them towards the small set of steps in the other end where a charming elf greeted the children as they arrived at the last stop before their long-awaited final destination — Santa’s lap. Harry briefly entertained the idea of going up there himself, wondering how Draco would react if he were to saunter over to him and casually sit down on his lap. The thought made him all but burst into a fit of giggles. 

Luckily, the universe decided not to embarrass him at this time, sending him a much-needed distraction in the form of his godson.

“Uncle Harry?” Teddy said, yanking the hem of Harry’s coat. “Can I?”

“Er…” Harry blinked, taking in the boy’s hopeful blue eyes and the elf standing next to him, handing out candy canes. “Sure, why not?”

Harry smiled at Teddy’s polite “Thank you” and shook his head when the elf turned to offer him one as well.

There was a bit of commotion as a young girl, no more than a toddler, broke into tears just as she was about to climb the steps. Apparently, the idea of approaching the bearded stranger had become more frightening as reality caught up with her. It wasn’t until her dad suggested she and her older sister go together that she agreed to leave his safe embrace. Draco seemed to take it all in stride, lifting up one girl onto each knee and coaxing broad smiles out of the pair of them in no time.

The sight of an old man being so good at handling children should _not_ be able to produce such a fluttery effect on any young man’s stomach. Harry ought to know. He was a Healer, after all; the body and its reactions were supposed to be his area of expertise. Yet, the number of pixies stirring in his belly as he watched Draco joke with the girls and make them feel comfortable was almost frightening. He’d known Draco was good with Teddy, he’d witnessed it before, but he had no idea Draco’s love for children stretched any further than his own cousin — or why it should in any way matter to Harry.

Eventually, it was time for young mister Finch-Fletchley to climb the steps. As he followed one of the elves to where Draco was seated next to the oversized Christmas tree, Harry squeezed his godson’s shoulder.

“Teddy? You’re next, cutie cub.”

“I am?” The boy turned to look at him, then Draco, then the steps before his gaze returned to Draco once more, a huge grin on his face.

“Do you want me to come with you, or—?”

“No.” Teddy’s nose scrunched up in the most adorable way possible. “I’m a big brave boy. I can go by myself.”

“Of course you can.” Harry chuckled, “but I’m here if you change your mind, alright?”

“I know, Uncle Harry.” Teddy looked up at him with an encouraging smile, his large, blue eyes filled with concern. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.”

_What did I ever do to deserve him?_

In his excitement, when any other five-year-old wouldn’t have had eyes or ears for anything but their upcoming meeting with Santa Claus, this little boy — his darling Teddy — had the awareness to not only bother about Harry but to actually worry about his well-being. Because Teddy knew about Harry’s unease in crowded public places. He might not know the reason for it, no child should ever have to worry about potential terrorists lurking at every corner, but Teddy _knew_. And he cared. Harry’s heart swelled at the mere notion of it.

“Welcome to Santa Claus’ Corner!” said the cheery elf manning the steps. “What is being your name, young sir?”

Harry didn’t mind being totally ignored in favour of his godson. This was Teddy’s moment, and quite an important one at that, judging from the way the boy immediately straightened up and cleared his throat.

“I’m Edward Remus Lupin, miss,” he said gravely before bowing in a manner that made Harry’s mouth twitch in amusement. He glanced over at Draco to see if he’d noticed the boy’s antics, only to find him smirking back at him over Finch-Fletchley junior’s head as the boy climbed down from his lap.

Harry lost track of time, looking into those twinkling grey eyes. He was dimly aware of the conversation between child and elf going on beside him, but it wasn’t until Draco nodded pointedly in Teddy’s direction that Harry hastened to return his attention to the boy. Unfortunately not before catching Draco winking at him, turning Harry’s knees to jelly with a casual dip of his long eyelashes.

Harry swallowed and met Teddy’s gaze, mustering up a smile for the boy as he willed himself to stay upright.

“Tomsy is to take young sir Edward to meet Master Santa Claus,” said the male elf who’d just returned a beaming son to Mrs Finch-Fletchley. Without further ado, the elf then turned on his heel, clearly expecting Teddy to follow him as he strode over the podium as fast as his short legs could carry him.

Teddy hesitated, seemingly unsure how to proceed, so Harry patted him on the back, urging him up the steps.

Harry wouldn’t have minded going with him, just to be able to be there, experiencing the special moment between the little boy and his idol first hand. He’d wanted to listen in on their conversation, already knowing how much he would love Teddy’s precocious demeanour and not wanting to miss out on a single second of it.

Also, Harry admitted to himself as he watched Draco greet his unsuspecting cousin, he wouldn’t have minded one last chance of being close to Draco before he left for France.

 _Merlin, listen to yourself, Harry. You’re like a besotted teenager_.

He groaned and shoved his fists deeper into his coat pockets. This needed to end. It was one thing finding your friend and fellow co-worker hot and fit beyond measure; that didn’t have to mean anything. Falling in love with them, though, without any hope of it ever evolving into anything beyond one-sided pining, was surely nothing but pathetic. If Draco had been interested, he would’ve said something by now, right? Because there was no way the man hadn’t noticed Harry’s swooning every five minutes whenever they happened to be in the same room. No, Draco knew, all right. And he graciously ignored it whenever he caught Harry ogling, or losing his train of thought mid-sentence, or blabbering utter nonsense because he just couldn’t help himself. _Godric_. If Draco only knew how often Harry mentally undressed him in the middle of a conversation… He’d be utterly horrified.

Harry thanked the cold weather for excusing his blush when first Draco and then Teddy turned to look at him. They seemed to be talking about him, Harry realised as Teddy gave him an enthusiastic wave. Warily, Harry extracted a hand from his pocket and waved back, only to feel his stomach lurch when Draco, too, lifted a glove-covered hand to wiggle his fingers at him with an amused smirk.

Harry didn’t know what he wanted more; to find out what they were saying about him or remain blissfully ignorant. He decided on the latter as he witnessed Teddy saying something that had Draco choke on his breath. Whatever had come out of the boy’s mouth, it certainly didn’t bode well for Harry, at least not if Draco’s sideway glances were anything to go by. Harry did his best not to squirm under Draco’s inquisitive gaze and stubbornly refused to acknowledge the intriguing blush that spread over Draco’s high cheekbones as he tried to recover from his sudden coughing fit. He looked absolutely adora—

_Okay, that’s it._

Harry set his jaw, finally coming to the decision he knew he should have made months ago. He would get over this stupid crush one way or another, or he’d die trying.

Starting today, he would simply refuse to let it govern his life any longer. It was the perfect timing too, with Draco leaving the country for several weeks. By the time he got back, Harry should have managed to shrug off this rose-tinted illusion of possible romance and return to his bloody senses, right?

_Right._

As soon the decision had been made, something warm and comforting settled in Harry’s gut. It spread throughout his body, pleasant and soothing, draining the tension from his stiff shoulders and slowing down the rapid beating of his heart. Even the pixies in his stomach were finally lulled to sleep. Harry had thought it would be hard, letting go; he’d thought it would be agonising and painful and all but unbearable. It wasn’t. He had expected sorrow, anticipated the bitter taste of defeat, and instead, what welcomed him now was nothing but a liberating feeling of relief.

Harry tilted his head back and closed his eyes to the sun, inhaling the crisp December air and allowing it to fill his lungs with hope and reassurance. He’d make it. In a few week’s time, his infatuation would all be over and forgotten, left in the past, and everything would be alright. It wasn’t the end of the world, after all. It wasn’t even the end of their friendship. Merlin, maybe one day in the future, this silly crush would even seem distant enough to serve as a harmless joke between them. And until then, Harry had amazing friends, an adorable godson, a job that he loved… And Christmas — Harry’s favourite time of year — was just around the corner. What more could he ever wish for?

_It will be all right._

As Harry opened his eyes and returned to the present, it was just in time to see Teddy being lowered to the ground by Draco’s strong, secure arms.

“Merry Christmas,” Teddy offered his idol in lieu of a goodbye, his enthusiasm evident not only in his sing-song voice and animated wave, but radiating from his entire being as he skipped over the podium floor towards Harry with a huge grin on his face.

Harry met him by the edge, welcoming his obvious joy with open arms. “Was it fun meeting Santa?”

“Yeah.” Teddy smiled, wrapping his legs around Harry’s waist as he let himself be enveloped in a tight cuddle. “Thank you for taking me, Uncle Harry.”

“But of course, cutie cub. Anything for you.” Harry didn’t know why — maybe it was the sight of Draco’s tentative smile as he took a moment to glance Harry’s way before lifting up the next child on his lap — but as he drew back from their hug to catch his godson’s eye, he asked, “But why did you both turn and wave? Did you two talk about me?”

And Harry knew he shouldn’t have. He’d already decided he didn’t want to know, right? And yet…

“Yeah.” Teddy’s grin grew even wider. “He wanted to know who you were.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. I asked him for a boyfriend for you.”

“You…W-what…?” Harry’s brain short-circuited and there was no way for him to stop the flush rising high and proud on his cheeks.

“I asked him for a boyfriend for you,” Teddy repeated with a shrug, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Can we have that ice cream now?”

“Y-yeah…”

It came out weak and breathless, the pathetic sound of it reminding Harry to muster up his resolve. He wasn’t over Draco yet, but he would be. Soon. If he could just— Harry allowed himself one last look in Draco’s direction, pouring all his yearning into it with the hope to drain the seemingly fathomless well in his heart.

_Enough. Enough now._

A cleansing breath. A decisive nod. Then Harry turned to give his godson a reassuring smile.

“Yeah. Let’s go have some ice cream.”


	3. TRACK 3 — Must Be Santa

Harry winced at the sharp metallic sound of his whisk beating the inside of the saucepan. It felt awfully loud in the otherwise quiet kitchen, and Harry almost regretted being the cause of it. Almost. He did have a good reason for producing it, after all.

They had made it home from the Burrow much later than he’d intended, and even though it was already long past Teddy’s bedtime, Harry had suggested a cup of hot chocolate in front of the fire before tucking him in. “Just because it’s Christmas,” Harry had said. “I think we ought to savour the day for as long as we possibly can.”

The truth was Harry dreaded what came after — after Teddy had gone to sleep. 

Harry didn’t want to hang around downstairs alone on Christmas evening. He didn’t want to be reminded of his loneliness tonight of all nights; this evening, meant to be spent with the ones you loved most..

Harry groaned. He really shouldn’t complain. He’d spent the entire day with the extended Weasley family — _his_ family — and even though it had left him with an overstuffed stomach and a slight ringing in his ears, there was no doubt they all loved him.

And Harry loved them too. For all the fuss and noise and never-ending bickering, they were a warm and caring family, and he felt honoured to be considered an undisputed part of it. But there was no use denying the fact that he never felt as lonely as he did after coming back from another visit to the Burrow. Somehow, the lively atmosphere and the continuous attacks on his senses made his own tranquil townhouse seem all the more desolate.

Harry barely registered the first knock, drowned out as it was by Teddy’s coming down the stairs. The boy had been coaxed to change into his pyjamas, bribed by the promise of marshmallows topping off his hot chocolate, and even though it would probably send him into another sugar rush, Harry figured it’d be worth it. If nothing else, just to experience the beaming smile that had overtaken Teddy’s face once Harry’d made his proposition.

The rumbling of Teddy’s sock-clad feet on the steps — how was it even possible for such a small kid to make so much noise? — came to an abrupt halt, and that’s when it came again. _Rat-a-tat_. Three sharp knocks on the front door. Harry frowned, stilling his hand.

They weren't expecting any company. All the people Harry knew had places to be, friends and family to be with. Moreover, if any of them had indeed decided on a change of plans, they’d use the Floo, right?

“Teddy? Can you go see who that is?”

“Sure!”

Harry listened intently as Teddy ran into the sitting room and climbed the built-in bench in the bay window to gain a good view of the doorstep.

“It’s Santa!”

His voice was loud and clear, brimming with excitement, but surely Harry must have heard him wrong?

“What?!” he called, the word riding on an incredulous scoff. Because, why woul—

“It’s Santa,” Teddy insisted.

“No, you’re kidding.” Harry chuckled and shook his head as he returned to his whisking.

“M’not.” Teddy’s voice was firm and… much closer than it had been only moments before. Harry looked over his shoulder to find the boy standing in the doorway with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “It’s really him.”

“Teddy, please…” Harry abandoned the whisk in the saucepan and turned around to face the boy. “There’s no way Santa is—”

“Yes, there is.” Teddy’s defiant glare was enough to wipe the last traces of amusement from Harry’s mind. Had the volunteers going around asking for donations really stooped so low as to…? On Christmas Day?

“You mean to tell me there’s someone out there dressed as San—”

“No,” Teddy groaned, stomping his foot. “No one’s ‘dressed as Santa’. It’s _him_. It’s really him. I should know, right?” he quickly added as Harry was about to protest again. “I just met him the other day, didn’t I?”

“It’s—?” _What?_ Harry blinked. _No, surely it can’t be…_ “Y-You sure it’s him?” Teddy nodded. “The same man you met in Diagon Alley last week?”

“Yes, Uncle Harry,” Teddy said on a long-suffering sigh, “I’m sure.”

He rolled his eyes in a manner Harry had always thought universally exclusive to melodramatic teenagers. Teddy did that sometimes, acting much older than his years, and Harry usually had a hard time hiding his amusement whenever it happened. Tonight, though, it barely registered with him, distracted as he was by the implication of Teddy’s words.

“Then—“ _B-But he’s in France…?_ Harry’s brain simply refused to cooperate, leaving him to fight his rambunctious emotions alone. Draco was here, standing on his doorstep, and Harry didn’t know what to— He swallowed, reminded himself he was a Gryffindor, and croaked, “Then, I guess you’d better let him in...”

“Yay!” Teddy flashed him a wide grin and rushed off in the direction of the front door.

As soon as the boy was out of sight, Harry went for the closest chair, unsure of how much longer his knees would be able to support him. He wasn’t ready for this. Nowhere near ready. He was only halfway through his two-week Draco detox, and after spending the entire day surrounded by happy couples, his heart felt even more fragile than it usually did.

The low rumble of Draco’s baritone reached him from the hallway, reawakening the sodding pixies in the pit of Harry’s stomach.

Definitely not ready.

He’d already known their next meeting was going to be a challenge, that if he wasn’t careful, he’d risk an emotional backlash the moment he set eyes on Draco again. He couldn’t allow for it to happen, not after all they’ve been through. Their friendship was too important for Harry to ruin it with his stupid feelings.

No, he needed to get over this crush. And he would, eventually, Harry was certain he could do it. But it would take time, more time than the universe seemed willing to give him. Because Draco wasn’t where he should be, a safe distance away in France. He was here, standing in Harry’s hallway, chatting with Teddy, and—

“Did you bring your pyjamas, Santa?”

 _What the…? Oh, dear Merlin…_ Teddy’s earnest voice filtered through Harry’s thoughts and before he knew it, Harry found himself moving towards the overheard conversation, caught halfway between mortification and curiosity.

“Er…” The always so eloquent Draco fumbled for words and Harry listened, intrigued, as the man attempted a discreet cough to hide his flustered state. “No, I’m afraid not.”

Reaching the doorway, Harry stopped, his eyes immediately drawn to the bearded old man looking down at Harry’s godson with a concerned look on his face. In his signature outfit, he’d surely be the centre of attention anywhere, but where most people would focus on the red velvet fabric and the white fur trim, the black boots and broad leather belt, all Harry could see was the rosy blush on those cheeks, a flush of colour against his white-blond locks, and those perfect happy wrinkles at the corners of his sparkling silver-grey eyes.

Harry wanted to get closer, wanted to touch, wanted to feel, wanted to inhale the Draco-scented air he knew was lingering only a few steps in front of him. But his knees had gone weak again, turned into jelly by the mere sight of Draco in his home, and so he opted for leaning against the doorframe instead, hopefully looking casual with his hands buried deep in his trouser pockets.

Teddy frowned apologetically. “Then you probably won’t get any marshmallows on yours.”

“Ah, what a shame,” Draco said, feigning a wistful expression. “I really like those marshmallows…” He looked up and Harry forgot how to breathe as warm grey eyes connected with his own. “Hi…”

“Hi,” Harry murmured, ignoring the roughness in Draco’s voice and the tremble of anticipation it sent down his spine. “I thought you were—”

“At work?” Draco cut in, saving Harry’s imminent blunder. “Yes, I— It’s been a looong day…” He grimaced and made a good show of stretching out his spine with one hand on the small of his back. “You know, travelling all over the world in one day really takes its toll on…”

“Aw, poor you,” Harry offered, playing along and adding a sympathetic pout for good measure. “Then you better sit down for a while, Mr Claus. D’you want some hot chocolate?”

“Yes, that’d be lovely,” Draco said, smiling.

“Perfect. I’ll be with you in a moment.” Harry winked — _Did I just…? Oh Merlin, what’s wrong with me?_ — and pushed off from the doorframe with his shoulder, retreating to the safety of his kitchen as fast as his legs could carry him.

What the fuck was Draco doing here? Why wasn’t he where he was supposed to be, with Narcissa and Andromeda? And why the hell had he shown up dressed like this, wearing his Santa costume? Why did Draco always insist on being so weird and unpredictable? If he’d only been able to behave like a normal person… It would have made him so much less intriguing and irresistible.

As it was, though, Harry couldn’t for the life of him figure out what the man was up to, and it was driving him insane.

How was he supposed to move on and forget about Draco when Draco kept showing up whenever he shouldn’t? When he kept acting so strange and mysterious? When he kept being all sassy and witty and— No, gorgeous wasn’t really the right word. _Not at the moment, at least_ , Harry mused as he entered the sitting room with three steaming cups floating in front of him. Draco was still handsome, though, with all those perfectly trimmed curls and his long, lean legs stretched out like that towards the fireplace. He looked so content where he sat in Harry’s favourite armchair, as if there wasn’t another place he ever wanted to be other than in Harry’s sitting room. Draco looked like he belonged.

And all right, Harry guessed he did, in a way. Between the Christmas tree in the corner and the yule log crackling merrily in the hearth, a well-dressed Santa Claus could but complete the picture.

Whatever Draco and Teddy had been talking about was cut short when Harry entered the room, Draco drifting off mid-sentence as their eyes met over Teddy’s flaming blue hair. Both man and boy sat up as their cups floated over towards them and Harry took a seat next to Teddy on the sofa.

Draco wrapped slender fingers around his cup and pulled it close to his face, inhaling the sweet scent of the chocolate. His half-moon glasses fogged up when he did, prompting him to tilt his head down to look at Harry over the frames as he murmured a soft, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Harry gave him a wry smile and did his best to ignore Draco’s impossibly long eyelashes.

It was useless. As long as Draco was near, Harry didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of resisting the magnetic pull towards him. Harry wanted him, ached for him, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to avoid it.

Harry sat back and sipped his chocolate in silence, only listening with half an ear as Teddy told Draco about his day at the Burrow, about all the people, the delicious food, the many presents… Fortunately, Harry’s full attention wasn’t required for the sake of the conversation. He and Teddy had been together all day, he already knew the gist of the story. And it wasn’t like Teddy seemed to remember Harry was there beside him anyway, focused as he was on their unexpected guest.

Not that Harry could blame him. He was just as captivated by Draco’s presence as the boy was, albeit for very different reasons. He tried to keep his eyes away — honestly, he did — but they were drawn back to the man, again and again, noticing his rounded belly moving as he laughed, his wrinkled hands cradling the cup, and the sticky foam of melted marshmallows catching in his moustache whenever he took another sip.

No, it wasn’t the young gorgeous Draco that Harry was used to, but it was still Draco, and if Harry had ever doubted whether this was true love or just a crush, he had his answer now. Because he yearned for Draco even now, old and wrinkled as he was. Not because he was attractive, but because he was _Draco_ ; the annoying snarky git who’d always had the ability to draw Harry’s attention like no one else ever could.

Something had to change. And if Draco didn’t have the decency to stay away when he was supposed to, maybe Harry should be the one to create the necessary distance instead? Maybe that could be his New Year’s resolution or something; taking some time off work to travel the world? He’d miss Teddy something fierce, but maybe it’d be worth it? Just to gain a little perspective, to meet some new people, and… maybe even get laid? (Merlin knew he needed to get laid, what with him sitting here, in the presence of a child, lusting for a hundred-year-old.)

At the very least, Harry figured he should give dating another try. He hadn’t been on a date in like… five months? Or was it six already? Harry had no idea. He didn’t particularly like dating, especially when set up with random strangers by his well-meaning friends, but he’d do it, he promised himself. Anything to take his mind off Draco.

After New Year’s.

When Harry eventually tuned in to the conversation again, he realised Teddy had started repeating himself in his sleepiness, no longer making much sense but blabbering on nonetheless.

“Hey, cutie cub?” he offered in a jawn-induced break. “Time for bed.”

“No,” Teddy whined when Harry relieved the boy of his cup. “I don’ wanna…”

“But it’s really late, darling, and you’re practically asleep already.” Harry combed his fingers through Teddy’s unruly locks, now back to the natural light brown he'd inherited from his father. “Come on, I can carry you if you want…”

Teddy nodded and didn’t protest as Harry went to pick him up from the sofa, compliantly wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and leaning his warm head against Harry’s chest.

Harry didn’t know if Draco would still be there when he came back down. For all he knew, the man could have come only for the boy’s sake. He probably had, too, if his choice of appearance was anything to go by. Harry didn’t want to hope, but he did. He didn’t want to look back at Draco as he exited the room, but he did. He definitely didn’t want to catch Draco watching him with twinkling eyes and an amused smile curving his lips. But he did.

His heart was still racing ten minutes later when Teddy was all tucked in; his stomach still fluttery as he whispered, “Sweet dreams, cutie cub,” by the door. His knees were still weak as he descended the stairs, unsure of what awaited him down below.


	4. TRACK 4 — The Greatest Gift of All

When he returned to the sitting room, the armchair Draco had been sitting in was empty and it took Harry a moment before he noticed the man standing off in the corner perusing the Christmas tree. It really did look chaotic, just like you’d expect from a tree decorated by an over-excited five-year-old and their very indulgent godfather. Harry liked it, though. Not that it was all that aesthetically pleasing to look at — it definitely wasn’t — but because it reminded him of how enjoyable Christmas could be for a kid who’d never had to experience the kind of childhood he himself had. Every time he looked at it, it made him love the holiday even more.

So, of course, Draco would have something to say about it.

“Interesting choice of colour scheme, Potter,” he said amused, glancing over to where Harry was standing near the door. “Here I thought you’d be the one to go for a classic red and gold, but I guess I should have known better. This rainbow explosion you have going on here is really someth—”

“Oh, shut it, you. Teddy and I did it together, okay, and if you don’t like it, fine, but don’t come here criticising my—”

“Hey, no need to get defensive…” Draco said, holding up his open palms in a placating gesture. “I never said I didn’t like it, did I?”

“Er… No, I guess…” Harry frowned, taking a few steps closer even though he probably shouldn’t.

“Then would you relax for a minute, you hot-blooded berk? I was just about to say how much I like the personal touch with the hand-made garlands, but now I’m not sure I want to anymore.”

“You… like them?” Harry was disinclined to believe it. “I’ve always pictured you growing up with the most perfect of Christmases, everything posh and polished and not a hair out of place. This” — Harry gestured around the room — “must surely be far from what you’re used to.”

“Which is why I like it, Harry.” Draco averted his gaze to take in the room. “You know, my parents never took the time to sit down with me and make garlands out of multicoloured paper. They never let me help to decorate the tree. Salazar knows what would’ve happened if everything wasn’t absolutely perfect where someone was able to notice.”

“I—” Harry swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Draco’s silver-grey eyes returned to him, sparkling like tinsel in the light from the crackling fire. “I know I had a privileged childhood, and I’m not complaining. I’m just… It would’ve been nice, you know, to have experienced that…”

“Maybe next year?” Harry’s mouth offered, without his brain’s permission. “You could come over and do it with us. I bet Teddy would like that.”

“I bet.” Draco’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes this time, and Harry found himself wondering why. “You’re good with him, you know. I’m certain you’ll be a brilliant father one day.”

“So will you,” Harry hastened to assure him. “I saw you with the kids last week. They all adored you.”

“Well, how could they not? I mean…” Draco’s hands outlined the red-clad curves of his bulging torso before they stopped, arms stretched out and fingers splayed at hip height. “…look at me.”

 _As if I needed to be told to_.

Harry fought back a frustrated groan. “Oh, come off it. They’d like you even if you weren’t all dressed up, you prat. You made them feel welcome. You made them relax and feel comfortable in a stranger’s company. That was not the costume; that was _you_.”

“You think?” Harry could tell Draco worked hard to make it sound casual, but the uncertainty was still detectable underneath.

“Yes, Draco,” Harry said, forcing himself to look straight into Draco’s beautiful eyes. He only lasted for a short moment, though hopefully long enough to get his earnestness across, before he had to avert his gaze. The abandoned cups on the coffee table provided a momentary reprieve, and Harry gratefully went over to gather them as he continued. “And you enjoyed it too. Don’t even try to deny it.”

“I did,” Draco said to his back, following after Harry as he made for the kitchen. “It was highly entertaining to listen to all those spoiled brats talking about their extravagant wishes. Let me tell you, kids these days have no concept of money whatsoever.”

“Really?” Harry bit back a smile as he started on the washing up. Not that he didn’t agree, but hearing it coming from Draco of all people…

“Yeah. I mean, one boy even asked for a real-life dragon.”

“Ha! As if you never did the same when you were that age. I bet you wished for a Welsh Green every year from the time you could talk.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“No?” Harry turned a sceptical eye towards Draco where he stood leaning against the counter only a few feet away.

“No.” Draco sighed and avoided his gaze. “I wanted an Antipodean Opaleye.”

“There you go.”

Feeling very pleased with himself, Harry smirked and returned to his task, placing the last cup in the plate rack before turning off the tap. He reached for a towel to dry his hands and when he next chanced a glance Draco’s way, the man was looking pensive. Not wanting to be caught staring, Harry busied himself with wiping off immaculate counters while he waited for Draco to sort out his thoughts, intent on letting him be the one to eventually break the silence between them. When Draco did, his voice was soft and hesitant.

“Do you know what Teddy asked me to get you for Christmas?”

Harry swallowed, powerless against the flush rising on his cheeks. “Y-yeah, I know. He told me… I’m…”

“You know…” Draco said, lifting his gaze to give Harry a mischievous hint of a smirk, “I was thinking…”

Pushing off from the counter, Draco took a few steps towards him, searching his face for something Harry didn’t dare put into words. His heart was beating so fast it felt like it was ready to explode, hope surging from his core in a whirlwind he found himself unable to control. “What were you…?”

“Well…” Draco raised an eyebrow. “You know, your godson has this cousin…” _Oh fuck, I—_ “This amazing, brilliant, terribly attractive cousin…” … _C-can’t breathe_ … “I think his name is Drago? Or Drake? Well, something like that…” Draco shrugged, flippant. “Anyway — ever met him?”

“Yeah…” Harry breathed, feeling dizzy. _I must be dreaming, this isn’t hap_ —

“What would you say if…?”

Draco was so close, close enough to touch. Harry could smell his fresh spicy scent wafting through the air and it took all his restraint not to reach out for him. It was futile to hope Draco didn’t catch the quaver in his voice.

“D’you think he’d be interested?”

“Maybe…” Draco pursed his lips in thought and Harry’s eyes were helplessly drawn to them like moths to a flame. “I could probably persuade him if you…”

“Y-You could?”

Draco’s smile was mesmerising. “Yeah, most definitely…”

“Then…” Harry hesitated, summoned his resolve, tried again. “Then, by all means, be my guest…”

“I thought I already was…”

Draco waggled his old-man eyebrows and Harry smiled, feeling some of the pent-up tension subside. He was still unable to grasp quite what was happening between them, but if this was real, if they were actually on the brink of what he thought they were, Harry wanted to savour it.

Reaching out a tentative hand, Harry finally allowed himself to touch, letting his fingertips trace the wrinkles on Draco’s forehead, brushing the pad of his thumb lightly over Draco’s rosy cheek, trailing tentative fingers through the soft curls of his long white beard. Under his palm, Draco’s chest heaved in sync with every shallow inhale and Harry found himself adjusting his own breathing to follow the same rhythm.

“I can’t believe how genuine you look,” he said. “How did you—?

“A-ageing potion.” Draco’s unsteady voice drew Harry’s attention back to his face, and when Harry looked up, it was to the sight of heavy-lidded eyes and a worried lower lip.

_Fuck. I want…_

“How long until…?”

“Maybe a quarter of an hour…”

Harry swallowed, lowering his gaze to where his hand was still tangled in Draco’s white-blond locks. “A-and what if I can’t wait that long?” he murmured.

A shiver of anticipation ran down his spine when Draco lifted his hand, gently nudging Harry’s chin up with the knuckle of his bent index finger, forcing Harry to meet his gaze as he whispered, “What makes you think I can?”

 _Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck_ , was the only thing running through Harry’s mind on a loop as Draco’s eyes flicked to Harry’s mouth, as the tip of Draco’s tongue flitted out to wet those rosy lips, as Harry realised…

He would never be able to recall who leaned in first. Maybe neither of them did, maybe both. It was as easy as magnetism; natural, instinctual, unstoppable; as if — now that they finally allowed it to happen — their very cores acted as opposite magnetic poles, attracting each other, drawing each other in. Draco’s lips were soft and warm and delicious, gentle at first, feather-light, brushing over Harry’s so fleetingly Harry almost couldn’t believe this was actually happening. That he was actually kissing Draco Malfoy. After all this time.

He’d imagined it so often, fantasised about what it would be like, and yet… reality was nothing like the visions his mind had ever been able to conjure up. Not only because Draco currently sported a beard that tickled Harry’s chin and a pouting belly that prevented their chests from pressing against each other the way Harry wanted them to, but because it was _real_. Because Draco was actually standing in his kitchen, with his strong hands resting on Harry’s hips and his uneven exhalations fogging up Harry’s glasses. Because Draco was actually nibbling on Harry’s lips and making the most adorable little noises Harry had ever heard. Because Harry could breathe in the heady scent of him and taste the sweetness of chocolate and marshmallows on his lips with every lick of his tongue.

Harry’s hands ventured up to cradle Draco’s heated cheeks and he angled their heads to allow for the kiss to deepen. Sucking in Draco’s lower lip between his own, Harry begged for entry in the only way his brain could manage at the time; with a whine so desperate and needy he’d be loath to admit himself capable of anything like it for the rest of his life. But capable he was — apparently, Draco brought it out of him — and thankfully, Draco didn’t seem to disapprove. On the contrary, he readily opened his mouth and flicked out the tip of his tongue to meet Harry’s. The connection sent a flush of arousal straight to Harry’s core, igniting every fibre of his body until he felt ready to soar broomless through the sky.

Draco moaned into Harry’s mouth, and Harry swallowed it greedily, lapping up every trace of the glorious sound as if he were a parched man who’d been wandering the desert for ages. Harry sank his fingers into the soft, silky locks of Draco’s longer-than-usual hair, grabbing it in his fists and rejoicing in Draco’s answering groan. Draco’s hands, hot and large and eager, moved along the waistband of Harry’s trousers, one of them trailing off to follow the curves of Harry’s spine as the other settled on the small of his back. The press of his palms brought them closer together, reminding Harry of Draco’s current state as he felt the man’s protruding stomach against his abs.

“Wait,” he panted against Draco’s lips. “We shouldn’t…”

“Oh, yes, we should…” Draco murmured, kissing his way down Harry’s neck.

“No, I—” Harry said faintly even as he tilted his head to give the man better access to his heated skin.

“You…? But…” Draco drew back, not much, but far enough for Harry to see the concern in his dark eyes. “I thought you…”

“I do, Draco. Merlin knows, I do. But…” Harry sighed and leant his forehead against Draco’s, clenching his fists in Draco’s hair as he fought the urge to ravage him.

“But what?”

“You’re still… And we’re… What if Teddy…?”

“Teddy?” Draco’s gaze flitted towards the ceiling. “But he’s asleep, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, but…” Harry found it hard to concentrate as the tip of Draco’s nose rubbed teasingly against his. “What if he wakes up?”

“He won’t,” Draco mumbled, nuzzling the soft spot behind Harry’s ear, making Harry whimper.

“Draco, please…”

“What do you want?” A breathless whisper, a wet tongue flicking his earlobe before it got sucked in between soft lips and stinging teeth.

“Fuck, Draco…” Harry gasped. “I want _you_. Every single piece of you. Been wanting you for so long.”

Draco moaned; a delicious sound that reverberated through Harry’s body like wildfire. Harry’s common sense was quickly crumbling to dust, and he knew that if he didn’t do something now, they’d be shagging openly right there in the kitchen within minutes.

“I just…” Harry swallowed. “I just don’t want Teddy to walk in on his number one idol defiling me on the kitchen table.”

Draco huffed a laugh over Harry’s hypersensitive skin. “You want me to defile you, Potter?”

“I most certainly do…” Harry summoned the last of his resolve and took a step back, holding Draco off with one palm on each shoulder. Draco looked utterly dishevelled, and seeing that he still was in his Santa form, the sight was… truly something else. “Believe me, the moment that bloody potion wears off, I’m going to rip those clothes right off you, no matter where we are at the time.”

Draco’s eyes flashed. “Bedroom’s upstairs, right?”


	5. TRACK 5 — O Come, All Ye Faithful

They stumbled up the stairs, eager to reach their destination posthaste and yet unable to keep their hands off each other.

“Can’t believe you’re here,” Harry said at one time, pushing Draco up against the wall, wanting to melt into the man he’d been yearning for for so long.

“Me neither,” Draco murmured a few steps further up, his eyes dark and dazed as he captured Harry’s lips in a bruising kiss.

“I didn’t expect company…” Harry blurted a moment later when they’d eventually made it to his bedroom door. His hand fumbled blindly for the handle, left to its own devices while the rest of him refused to focus on anything but Draco.

“How fortunate,” Draco purred, his eager wet mouth never leaving Harry’s skin. “Would’ve hated to come all the way from France just to walk in on you with someone else…”

“No, I—” Harry gasped as Draco grabbed his arse possessively with both hands. It was awfully hard to think when Draco was nuzzling his neck like that. The soft hairs of his moustache were tickling his skin and— “I meant… n-neat and tidy isn’t rea— _aah —_ lly my s-strong suit.”

“As if I didn’t already know.” Draco scoffed, and before Harry had time to blink, the man was pinning him against the door, trapping both his hands above his head. “As if I cared. I—”

And that’s when it happened, right before Harry’s eyes. Draco must have felt it too, because he stilled, lust-blown eyes widening as he stared unblinkingly straight into Harry’s soul. Harry watched in wonder as Draco’s dry, wrinkled skin smoothed out and regained its former lustre, as his white facial hair shortened and eventually disappeared, leaving in its wake neatly shaped eyebrows and those impossibly long golden lashes. Up close like this, they were even more mesmerising than usual, framing Draco’s beautiful eyes like bright rays of pure sunshine. Locks of gorgeous hair, once again cheekbone-length and platinum-blond, fell over Draco’s forehead, making him look dishevelled in a way Harry had never seen him before, except in his wildest fantasies. A fresh spark of arousal travelled down Harry’s spine as he realised just whose hands were responsible for that sexy tousled look.

“Holy fuck,” he breathed, only now taking in the full reality of it all. Draco was here — his Draco, the man he’d been in love with for so long. He was standing only inches away with his flushed cheeks and his shallow breaths, about to enter Harry’s bedroom, about to… “ _Fuck_.”

Draco growled and lunged, taking Harry’s mouth in a fierce kiss that wiped away every trace of coherent thought from Harry’s mind and left him breathless. When Draco withdrew, it was only to assault Harry’s neck instead, mouthing his way down Harry’s stubbled skin to the accompanying sound of Harry’s needy whimpers. With a bit of hard-earned concentration, Harry managed to wriggle his wrists out of Draco’s grip, freeing his hands to slide under the fabric of Draco’s fur-brimmed coat. The broad leather belt was already on the floor, fallen off after Draco’s body had returned to its usual lean self. None of them had noticed it fall, too wrapped up in each other to pay attention to such trivial things as the clunking sound of a heavy metal buckle meeting wooden floorboards.

“Fuck…” Harry moaned again as his palms moved over the soft, thin fabric of Draco’s vest, detecting well-defined muscle underneath. “I want… I need…”

Harry wasn’t exactly sure what it was that he needed, except _more_ and _please_ and _now_. It didn’t matter anyway, since Draco took the opportunity to silence him with another brutal kiss, invading Harry’s mouth with his hot, wet tongue. Harry thrust against him and gasped as Draco’s hard erection rubbed against his own through several layers of clothing.

Draco’s strong hands found their way back to Harry’s arse, grabbing it eagerly and pressing their bodies even closer together with every thrust. Without breaking their kiss, Harry reached up to relieve Draco of his coat, pushing it over his shoulders and revelling in the feel of bared skin under his palms as he followed its path down Draco’s upper arms. It got stuck at his elbows, of course, what with Draco’s hands being occupied where they were, and Harry tugged on the garment until Draco got the message and reluctantly let go of his hold.

“Inside,” Draco demanded. “Now.” His voice was a low, deep rumble that went straight to Harry’s cock, making it twitch in anticipation.

“Yes… Good idea…” This time, Harry turned properly to open the door, biting his lip when he felt Draco’s hot breath on his skin as the man leaned in to nuzzle his neck.

They made it inside and Harry even had the awareness to cast a one-way Silencing Charm on the door before returning his attention to his… friend? Guest?

 _Lover_ , his mind provided, and that thought alone was enough to set Harry’s mind reeling.

Clothes were strewn all over the floor as they made for the bed, the buttons of Harry’s dress shirt flying in every direction once Draco got too impatient in his quest for naked skin. Draco didn’t stop as Harry’s calves hit the bed frame, instead crowding Harry until he fell backwards onto the dark blue bedspread. Harry scooted up to rest against the pillows and Draco followed him, straddling his legs and taking in the sight of the man sprawled out underneath him.

“Merlin, Harry…” he murmured, brushing feather-light fingertips over Harry’s bare stomach, making him quiver. “I can’t believe you’re…”

“Me neither,” Harry said, breathless, looking up at the gorgeous vision before him. Draco looked like an angel; a true Christmas angel descended from the heavens to bring beauty and joy to the world.

“So…” Draco leaned down to suck one of Harry’s hardened nipples into his mouth, bracing himself with one hand next to Harry’s shoulder while the other reached down to — _aah_ — cup the bulge in his trousers. “I have a question for you, Harry.”

“Yes…?” Harry hissed, nearly arching off the bed as Draco flicked his tongue over the sensitive nipple.

Draco took his time, sucking and licking and kissing a trail up Harry’s chest, along his neck, and all the way up to his ear. The hand fondling Harry’s cock squeezed lightly as he whispered, “Have you been a good boy this year?”

“W-what?” Harry gasped, mindlessly scrunching up the bedspread in his fists as he bucked into Draco’s hand.

“It’s Christmas Day,” Draco said smugly, “and I’m Santa Claus.” He bumped the tip of his nose gently against Harry’s before placing a soft kiss on his lips. “If you’ve been a good boy, your wish is my command.”

“Oh.”

“So, what do you want, Harry?” Draco murmured against Harry’s lips.

“I—” Harry gasped as Draco started stroking his cock. “You… I want to…

“Yes?” Harry could hear the grin in his voice, could feel it against his mouth.

“…Want to feel you… i-inside me.”

The words had barely left him before Draco kissed him again, slowly, tenderly, achingly sweet. “I’ll take care of you, love,” he said. “Just relax and I’ll take care of you.”

And he did. Draco undressed him with the utmost care, covering every bared inch of skin with gentle caresses and soft kisses. He took his time to explore every dip and curve of him, all the while showering him with praise that made Harry blush like a shy teenager. Draco rolled him over and brushed his fingertips over Harry’s shoulders, his back, his hips, his thighs, his calves. His barely-there touches were maddening, just enough to set Harry’s entire body tingling and yet not nearly enough to satiate him. By the time Draco’s hands finally reached Harry’s arse, Harry was keening with pent-up desire, eagerly pushing up against Draco’s palms, practically mewling when Draco took pity on him and dug his fingers into Harry’s flesh.

“Impatient much?” Draco chuckled.

Harry could feel Draco’s hot, ragged breath ghost over his hypersensitive skin, alerting him to just how close Draco’s mouth was to where he wanted it to be.

“Please…” he begged, arching his back and parting his legs. _Like a fucking crup in heat_ , Harry’s sex-addled brain provided. As if Harry cared. Just as long as Draco got the message.

Draco did get the message. He groaned and shuffled between Harry’s legs, adjusting his position to allow for him to tease Harry’s waiting hole. And teased he did, the wanker; licking and kissing and flicking his tongue over Harry’s pucker until Harry was a writhing mess underneath him, drawing back every time Harry thrust up against him, soaking his crease with enough saliva for Harry to feel it trickling down his perineum and wetting his balls.

“Please…”

Draco — _thank Merlin_ — indulged him. At Harry’s plea, he entered him, pressing the tip of his tongue inside Harry’s body over and over and over again until Harry shamelessly begged for more.

“Fuck,” Draco said as he came up for air, sounding dazed and awed and husky beyond measure. “Fuck,” he said again as he pushed a long, slender finger into Harry’s panting hole. “Fuck, Harry,” he breathed as he started fucking Harry with it, slowly, thoroughly. “Do you have any idea how sexy you are like this? Giving yourself to me so willingly, so eagerly? So open and pliant and utterly delectable.”

“Nnngh,” Harry provided eloquently, too far gone for actual words.

Draco’s other hand stroked unreadable patterns over Harry’s back, pausing every now and then to squeeze one shoulder here, one arsecheek there, searching its way up into Harry’s unruly locks, running neatly trimmed nails over Harry’s scalp, grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging slightly, making Harry gasp.

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you Harry?”

“No, I—”

“But you are, my love. You’re such a good boy. Just lying here, taking it so beautifully.”

Harry groaned.

He had no idea how Draco could possibly know. He’d never told anyone. Hell, he’d barely even admitted it to himself. But Draco knew. He seemed to know exactly what his praise did to Harry, how it made him shudder and melt, how it spiked his arousal nearly as much as Draco’s physical ministrations did.

“See?” Draco murmured as his finger brushed over Harry’s prostate, making him yowl. “So good. So fucking perfect.”

It went on like that, two fingers, three, four, interlaced with Draco’s complementing words, spoken in his deep, soothing baritone. Harry lost track of time, lost track of everything except Draco’s touch, Draco’s voice, Draco’s scent. At one point, Draco leaned in behind him, bracing himself on his elbow to kiss Harry’s shoulder. As he did, Harry felt Draco’s rock-hard cock prod his thigh and smear pre-come over his skin.

“Fuck me, Draco…” Harry pleaded, looking over his shoulder in search of Draco’s face. He had lost his glasses somewhere along the line, but Draco’s features were still clear as day before him, so close was he as their eyes met. “Want to… your cock… Please,” he added, just before Draco growled and captured his mouth in a feral kiss.

Harry had thought Draco would choose to fuck him like this, taking him from behind. It would surely have been most convenient, considering how close his prick already was to where it was supposed to go. But Draco told him to turn over, and so he did, lifting his hips to allow for Draco to place a pillow under his arse. Draco kneeled between his thighs, his dark eyes roaming over Harry’s body as he lined himself up.

“So fucking gorgeous…” he mumbled, mostly to himself, and Harry wanted to hit him on the head saying _Look who’s talking_. Because if anyone deserved the epithet, it was Draco — the stunning blond angel, with his lust-blown eyes and his kiss-swollen lips, his usually-so-pale porcelain skin now flushed with colour.

“You’re beautiful,” Harry said. How could he not? He wanted to reach out and touch him, but his hands were occupied holding his thighs close to his sides, presenting his achingly empty hole for Draco’s cock. “I can’t believe you’re—”

“Believe,” Draco said.

And then finally — _finally_ — he pushed himself inside.

With Draco’s fairly decent size, Harry had been prepared for at least some discomfort. Not that he had too much experience with this kind of thing, but with the limited experience Harry _did_ have, he had reckoned it being sort of a given. However, between the ridiculously thorough prep and the excessive amount of lube Draco had slicked himself up with, Draco sunk into him as naturally as if he’d always belonged; as if he was always meant to be inside Harry’s body; as if he was the missing piece Harry had been lacking all along.

“Harry…” Draco breathed, his lips mere inches above Harry’s mouth.

“Draco…” Harry whimpered. Because, apparently, whimpering was his thing now. He probably would have felt embarrassed about it, had it not been for the effect it seemed to have on Draco.

Draco fluttered his eyes closed and bit down on his bottom lip. “Can I…?”

“Please…”

And Draco moved. Slowly at first; long, deep thrusts that felt like a manifestation of sorts, as if Draco was trying to pound the reality of it all into Harry’s very core with every grind of his hips. _Believe, believe, believe_.

Harry moved with him, meeting Draco’s thrusts as good as he could, rubbing his leaking cock against Draco’s undulating abs. With Draco’s hands firmly planted on the mattress, holding him up, Harry finally got a chance to explore Draco’s body the way he himself had been explored, caressing his smooth skin, pinching his dark hardened nipples, running his hands over any and all parts of Draco he could reach.

Draco kept his eyes locked on Harry’s the whole time, only closing them occasionally when Harry’s touches and needy sounds became too much for him to process without coming. Harry revelled in the beauty of them, the warm bluish-grey framing dark glittering pupils, enlargened by desire and softened by emotion.

It didn’t last for nearly long enough. The protracted build-up, after months (if not years) of mutual pining, made it impossible for either one of them to delay the inevitable. Draco had barely wrapped his hand around Harry’s cock before Harry came with a shout, spurting all over his chest and probably over Draco’s as well. Draco wasn’t far behind, pulled over the edge just a few strokes later by the sight of Harry coming and the pulsating feel of Harry’s arse clenching around his cock.

They lay like that for quite a while afterwards, with Draco collapsed over him, none of them willing or able to move. Harry could feel Draco’s heartbeat pulse with his own, no longer racing but still beating hard against his ribcage. Draco left sloppy kisses on Harry’s neck and shoulder, anywhere he could reach without having to lift his head. Harry let his fingertips wander absent-mindedly back and forth along Draco’s side and he smiled every time he hit a spot that made Draco twitch under his hand.

Eventually, Draco rolled off him to lie on his back next to Harry. Harry let his head fall to the side, studying Draco’s striking silhouette while the man contemplated the ceiling.

“To think, I almost didn’t come.”

Harry frowned. “You didn’t…? Um… At least you _seemed_ to enjoy yourself?”

“What?” Draco briefly turned his head to look at him, bewildered, before huffing a laugh. “Circe, Harry. I had no idea you were so sex fixated.”

“I’m not—”

Draco rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. “I meant _coming here_. Tonight. From France.” He turned to lie on his side, propping his head on his elbow. “If it weren’t for Andromeda…”

“’Dromeda?”

“Yeah. She’s the one who talked me into going. I guess she noticed how miserable I was…”

“I’m glad she did,” Harry said, shuffling to mirror Draco’s position. “In fact, no matter how hard I tried, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you ever since you left.”

“Really?” Draco grinned and reached out a hand to stroke Harry’s hip.

“Yeah.” Harry bit his lip, trying not to lose his train of thought as a fresh wave of heat pooled in the pit of his stomach. “You know, that day in Diagon Alley… I even had half a mind to cross that stage and sit down in your lap myself, just for one last chance to be close to you before you left.”

Draco drew in a sharp breath. “You’re saying you thought about giving a hundred-year-old a lap dance? In the middle of Diagon Alley? In front of dozens of innocent children?” His attempt to look appalled was completely ruined by the mirth dancing in his eyes. “Oh my, Potter, you _are_ a naughty bastard.”

Harry chuckled. “Now who’s sex fixated?”

Draco smirked and tightened his grip on Harry’s hip. “Don’t worry,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows, “this Santa quite likes naughty.”

_The fucking…_

“I’ll show you naughty,” Harry growled and pounced, rolling Draco over on his back and pinning his hands above his head as he straddled him, his cock already swelling again despite their previous activities. Draco opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Harry was there, silencing him with a feral kiss.

Their second round was rougher, fiercer, but no less passionate or intense than their first. Harry took Draco’s cock in his mouth and sucked him back to full hardness, swallowing him deep down his throat until Draco begged him to stop. With his arse already stretched and wet, Harry could easily lower himself down over Draco’s shaft, taking him in just as naturally as before. And then he rode him, hard and fast and with wild abandon. Draco rolled his hips underneath him, meeting Harry’s motions with thrusts of his own, clutching Harry’s thighs hard enough to bruise.

When they finally settled under the covers, Draco nestled Harry against his chest, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him close.

“Merry Christmas, love,” he whispered into the nape of Harry’s neck.

“Merry Christmas, Draco.”


	6. TRACK 6 — What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

When Harry woke up the next morning, it was to the sound of Teddy’s feet hurrying across the landing just outside his bedroom door.

Blinking his eyes open, he had a moment to wonder about his state of undress and the unusual clammy heat before he noticed the… — Harry frowned — …the weight of an arm thrown around his waist?

 _Draco_.

Draco had come last night — all the way from France. He had sipped hot chocolate with him and Teddy, had admired Harry’s Christmas tree and later kissed him in the kitchen. And then they’d… Harry’s arse clenched at the memory.

He could feel it; the soreness, the evidence of what had happened last night. The proof that it hadn’t all been just a dream. And Draco was still there, still asleep next to him. Harry could feel his body tucked snugly against his back, his hips, his thighs, could feel his morning erection pressing against his arse. Draco’s warm breaths wafted over the damp skin at the nape of Harry’s neck, deep and even, soothing to listen to. Harry wished he could lie like this forever, ensconced in the bliss of Draco’s nearness, far away from the world outside.

But Teddy was awake, and if Harry didn’t get downstairs soon, they’d risk getting caught in bed together once the boy decided it was time for breakfast. Not that Harry had any intention to keep this latest turn of events a secret from his godson, but he figured he’d rather have that particular conversation when they were all decently dressed.

However, escaping Draco’s clutches without waking him proved to be a futile endeavour. As Harry tried to slide out from his embrace, Draco merely tightened his hold on him and muttered something unintelligible against his shoulder. With some difficulty, Harry eventually managed to turn around to face him, allowing himself a moment to appreciate his peaceful features before attempting anything else.

He looked so soft, so vulnerable, with his perfect hair all rumpled and his immaculate skin blotchy red from being grazed by Harry’s five o’clock shadow.

Harry reached out and stroked Draco’s hot cheek, smiling fondly when those beautiful eyes fluttered open. They were unfocused at first, dazed, but soon the misty grey cleared to bright silver as they found Harry’s gaze.

“Good morning,” Harry murmured and watched Draco’s mouth curve into a content smile. He really, really didn’t want to leave the bed, but… “I have to—”

“No…” Draco’s arm tightened around his waist and Harry was sorely tempted to suck that pouting lip into his mouth. It looked delectable.

“Yes, Draco,” he said instead. “Or do you want Teddy to find us like this?”

“Hmm…” Draco furrowed his brow in contemplation. “I don’t know, it might be worth it…”

Harry rolled his eyes and leaned in to give him a quick peck on the lips. All right, then, two. And a third, just because. And then another that went on for longer than he’d intended it to. Draco’s lips were so soft and pliant, his low purr like music to Harry’s ears. Draco’s hand moved lazily along Harry’s spine, making Harry’s cock twitch and his skin tingle in anticipation.

 _Merlin_.

Harry pressed his palm against Draco’s broad chest and drew back, feeling dazed and breathless. _Never thought I’d have to be the responsible one between the two of us,_ he mused, smiling at the thought. “Come on, I’ll make us breakfast.”

Draco reluctantly released him, and Harry stepped into his pyjama bottoms before going over to the dresser in search of something for Draco to wear. He couldn’t very well put on yesterday’s clothes, could he?

“Thank you,” Draco said as Harry handed him a pair of light grey joggers and a neutral navy tee Harry wore rarely enough for Teddy not to recognise. He rose from the bed and got dressed while Harry went through their discarded clothing in search of his missing glasses.

“Here.”

“Huh?” Draco was blurry when Harry turned to look at him, an abstract blob of colour extending a hand with Harry’s… “Oh, thanks.” Harry accepted his glasses and put them on, grinning as Draco’s striking features returned to his face.

“Er…” Draco hesitated, cheeks turning pink. “You’ve got some…” he mumbled, gesturing vaguely, “…on your neck…”

“Oh. I—” Harry threw a glance in the mirror and felt his eyes widen.

 _Shit_.

Love bites. So many love bites. It practically looked like he’d been mauled by a wild beast. He probably should have been appalled by the sight, but for some reason, Harry found that he wasn’t.

“Here, let me…” Draco flicked his wand and cast a succession of Concealment Charms over the bruises, making them fade from view. “I can get you a Healing salve later, but—”

“You don’t have to,” Harry heard himself saying. “I quite like the thought of being marked by your mouth.”

Draco’s eyes flashed and Harry quickly averted his gaze to pick up his pyjama top from the floor. Wriggling into it, he paused to shudder as he felt warm hands gliding over his bare skin and strong arms encircling his waist from behind. He let out a soft moan and relaxed into the embrace, letting his head fall back to rest on Draco’s shoulder. Draco nuzzled his neck and hummed in agreement, leaving feather-light kisses on Harry’s tender skin.

It was still hard to grasp it, that Draco was actually here in his bedroom, touching him, holding him. It was like a belated mass delivery of happy childhood Christmases, a whole decade’s worth of them, all wrapped into one.

Harry turned around in Draco’s arms, craving another taste of those lips, another glimpse of his gorgeous angel, when… the distinct chime of the Floo alarm sounded through the room.

 _Fuck_.

“I need to…”

Draco sighed unhappily but let him go, though not before stealing one final fleeting kiss. Harry already had the door open and one foot on the landing when he stopped, struck by a sudden thought.

“What are you doing New Year’s Eve?”

“I— I was supposed to be in France.” Draco frowned. “Now, I don’t know. Actually—”

“Grandma!” came Teddy’s excited voice from downstairs.

_Oh fuck._

“Go,” Draco said, shooing him out the door. “I’m right behind you.”

Harry hurried down the stairs, thanking his lucky stars he’d managed to get them both dressed before Andromeda’s impromptu Boxing Day check-in. He paused in the sitting room doorway, his heart warmed by the sight of his darling godson sitting cross-legged in front of the hearth, animatedly telling his grandmother about the previous day.

“You should’ve been here, grandma. Santa came, and—”

“Did he now?”

“Yeah, he did! And Uncle Harry made us all hot chocolate—”

Harry chuckled as he listened to the boy, pleased when he felt Draco’s warmth against his back. He wasn’t all that surprised when those strong arms wrapped themselves around his waist again.

“—and Santa got marshmallows in his, even though he didn’t have his pyjamas on, and then—”

“And what happened then?” Andromeda asked amused.

“—then I saw Uncle Harry kissing Santa Claus.”

Harry choked on his breath, and next to his ear he could hear Draco do the same.

“You did?” Andromeda said from the green flames of the Floo.

“Yeah, I did,” Teddy confirmed with a vigorous nod as Draco’s hot breath brushed the shell of Harry’s ear.

“You naughty, naughty boy,” he whispered.

Harry swallowed down a sudden bout of arousal and groaned as he felt a flush rise on his cheeks. Draco snickered quietly and hugged him closer, leaning in to rest his chin on Harry’s shoulder. And that’s how Teddy found them as he turned around to check on the muffled noises behind him.

Teddy frowned, bewildered. “Cousin Draco!”

“Hey, sunshine.”

“When did…? How…?” Teddy stilled, confusion transforming into awe. “Santa brought you, didn’t he?”

Beside Harry, Draco chuckled. “Yeah, something like that.”

Harry cleared his throat and smiled sheepishly. “Would you mind if he stayed for breakfast?”

“No.” Teddy beamed. “I wouldn’t mind if he stayed forever.”

Harry’s heart swelled. “I don’t know,” he said, “maybe if we’re lucky, he will.”

Draco’s arms tightened around him. “About New Year’s Eve,” he whispered, against the sensitive spot right under Harry’s ear. “I don’t care where I am as long as I get to kiss you at midnight.”

Harry grinned, feeling happier than ever before. Who knew a trip to visit Santa Claus could actually make all your Christmas wishes come true?

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, my lovelies 💖
> 
> I love and cherish any and all feedback you’re willing to give me — kudos, comments and recommendations are my primary life sources.
> 
> For more interaction, please find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/drarrelie)


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